


Count the Roses, Not the Thorns

by Fade_to_Ebony



Series: Fallout Chronicles [6]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Begging, Biting, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Come Eating, Come Shot, Come Swallowing, Complete, Cunnilingus, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death Threats, Depression, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Dom/sub, Dominance, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Dealing, Drug Withdrawal, Drug-Induced Sex, Drugs, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional Roller Coaster, Emotionally Repressed, Enthusiastic Consent, Escort Service, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fantastic Racism, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Ghoul Sex, Gratuitous Smut, HOLY SHIT I LOVE THE F WORD, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Going to Hell, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Light BDSM, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, Love at First Sight, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Violence, Misogyny, Missionary Position, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Sex Positions, Near Death Experiences, Oral Sex, Orgasm, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Underage Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prostitution, Public Blow Jobs, Public Humiliation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, References to Depression, Religious Conflict, Religious Guilt, Rough Kissing, Sex, Sexism, Shameless Smut, Simultaneous Orgasm, Slow Burn, Smoking, Smut, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Threats, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Underage Drug Use, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Violence, Violent Thoughts, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:48:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27084397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fade_to_Ebony/pseuds/Fade_to_Ebony
Summary: In his darkest hours, Rose is more sharp edges than a beautiful, Old World relic; but times are changing and so is he.Note:The underage tag doesnotpertain to the main character in the present, only to minor andnon-graphicreferences of his past. Obviously, I do not condone abuse of minors.
Relationships: Original Male Character(s)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Fallout Chronicles [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178576
Comments: 8
Kudos: 8





	1. I Suffer In Silence

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** The following content contains references to underage sexual abuse and drug use as well as explicit threats of rape and violence. Always read the tags. View at your own discretion.
> 
> Chapters are **not** beta read. Corrections will be made in post as I get to them.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose struggles with daily life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re unaware of who Rose and the rest of the “cast” are, they’re introduced in _What Happens In Vegas Is Probably Sexy_. I’d recommend reading Tourniquet’s story first if you really want to understand the characters to their fullest extent.
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

He’d been thinking about her again, that smoothskin woman from before. The one with the funny name. Tourniquet.

She hadn’t been back to see him for a while. He wasn’t really surprised, but it hurt all the same. The way she’d talked to him had made him feel special somehow, like he wasn’t just another face in Vegas’ many dens of degeneracy. And then, that time he’d woken up with her in his arms...

Ah, right... that’d been after Harris had got him high off his ass and he’d passed out. At an _orgy_. Before, he’d assumed the girl had chosen to stay with him the entire time, but who was he kidding? He’d woken up by himself when his high wore off.

... Not to mention the first time she’d come to see him, only having him alone hadn’t been enough. Realization dawned on him that the second time was probably much the same.

He got a sour taste in his mouth as he thought it over. Pah, the girl kind of reminded him of Harris. With that thought in his mind, he was suddenly put off.

Okay, maybe that was a little harsh. _Nobody_ was as bad as Harris when it came to craving sex. But still, the comparison was there now and he couldn’t shake it. He grimaced and opened his eyes.

God dammit, he hated it here. He hated the room he was currently confined to. He hated the stage more, and the people who sought him even more than that.

Who knew being paid to have sex could suck so much? He just wanted someone to show some interest in him other than for his body, and for a minute he thought she was that person.

But where was she now? Not here. She’d never come back. Hell, she’d probably forgotten who he was already. She was like all the rest.

“Whatever,” he grumbled to himself as he rolled over and checked the time. 9:53. Fuck. He was due on stage in seven minutes.

His body felt heavy as he pried himself out of bed. The sunlight leaking through the window was hurting his eyes and he ached all over. Last night had been busier than usual. People were finally feeling brave enough to come back to the Strip after the Courier killed Mr. House and rolled through with an army of Securitrons to chase the NCR out.

Well, it didn’t matter. Jet always dulled the pain, both in his mind and his body. It was probably time for another hit...

... except when he checked his stash, all he found were empty inhalers. _Fuck and shit and fuck again!_

He would have to make another visit to Harris and he was _not_ in the mood. But did he want to forgo the inevitable, or work his entire shift sober? That was an easy enough decision to make.

_Fuck it... I better get this done before it’s time to take the stage._

•••

“Ah, Rose... run out already? I gave you extra last time...” Harris was leaning against the doorway in his room, already half-naked and giving him a hungry smirk. Rose clenched his teeth behind his lips.

“I need to be downstairs in five. Just give me enough to get through my shift and I’ll come pay you later.”

“Ah, ah, not so fast...” Harris purred. “You know I don’t do transactions that way. How do I know you won’t just make off with the goods, hmm?”

Rose growled. He felt like punching the horny son of a bitch. “You know I’m good for it, just hook me up, man.”

“Can’t do it, sorry.” Harris’ grin stretched wider and he leered at his withdrawing co-worker. He loved it when they were desperate like this, so easily broken...

“For fuck’s sake!” Rose raked a hand down his face. “Fine, what do you want?”

Harris looked back into his room to check the clock. Three ‘til. Well, he could probably get off in that time.

“On your knees...”

Rose closed his eyes and submitted to his demand. Ultimately, no matter how frustrated he got, he always did in the end. He was hopelessly addicted and Harris knew he needed the drug nearly as much as he needed air. Fine by him; he made the stuff himself and distributed it around as much as he could to keep everyone coming back. It was easy enough to do if you had the recipe, not that he’d ever tell anyone that.

Harris placed a hand on the other ghoul’s head as he slowly pulled his belt through the loops. Rose wrapped his fingers around Harris’ thighs, gripping him hard to balance himself as he started to shake. Fuck, he needed it _now_...

Harris watched Rose’s face in amusement as he threw the belt behind him and took his time pulling down his zipper to antagonize him. It worked like a charm; Rose ripped his hand away and tugged his pants down without even unbuttoning them. That was all that stood in his way. Harris didn’t usually wear underwear and today was little different.

Rose lunged forward and swallowed Harris’ cock whole, sucking him hard as he worked his head up and down the older ghoul’s shaft. Harris sighed and pet his head as his tongue laved over all of his sensitive spots. Rose’s hands quivering on his thighs made it feel even better. Oh, fuck yes, he really did love them like this...

... but he wasn’t above a little teasing, either.

Harris craned his neck so he could look at the clock again. “Two minutes to go... you better hurry. Wouldn’t want to piss off Big Sal by being late again, would you...?”

He groaned and threw his head back as Rose struggled around his cock to move his head faster. That had been all the encouragement he needed. Harris was already beginning to feel that tingling sensation rising in his groin.

Rose was excellent with his tongue. He pressed it flat against Harris’ slit and licked him each time he pulled his head back, then stroked it along the underside of his shaft as he took it into his mouth.

“One minute...”

Oh, God, he was nearly out of time. Frantically, Rose yanked himself backwards and off of Harris’ cock. He knew what would make him finish.

He inserted two fingers into his mouth and slicked them up with spit, then grabbed Harris’ ass and spread him open as he popped his cock back in and began tonguing at his frenulum. At the same time, he delved his fingers inside of him and wiggled them. Harris’ knees nearly buckled as he was overwhelmed by a devastating tide of pleasure.

Rose counted to ten in his head before Harris was moaning and cumming in his mouth. He tried to back away when Harris finished so he could spit it out, but Harris had anticipated that and kept him in place with his hand. “No... swallow it.”

Fuck this bastard. Rose growled a warning against him; he was really pushing it. He knew Rose hated swallowing. He was using his situation against him.

“Do it or I’m not giving you any Jet.”

Rose nearly bit down on him in his fury, but Harris felt his teeth closing in and forced him off before he could bite. The next thing Rose knew, he was on his back and Harris was sitting on his chest, holding his head down against the floor. “Swallow.”

After a few more seconds of struggle, Rose conceded and swallowed, gagging lightly as Harris finally got off of him. “Good boy...” he purred, pulling his pants back up, but leaving them undone as he walked back into his room and produced a few canisters of Jet. Rose scowled when he reappeared in the doorway.

“Don’t use it so fast this time,” Harris instructed as he shoved the drug into Rose’s hand. “Also, it’s 10:01.”

“Fuck!” Rose cursed as he raced away. Harris snickered to himself. Should he call after him and tell him he forgot to put on his uniform?

Nah. Let him figure it out on his own.


	2. Danger: Stay Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose’s shift goes just as poorly as he expects.

Well, it had been inevitable. Rose showed up two minutes late for his shift, and just as he was preparing to get on stage, he’d realized he hadn’t even changed out of his sleeping attire.

Of course, Big Sal had heard about it and sent that fuckhead Cachino to ream his ass in front of everyone, co-workers and customers alike. He hadn’t had the decency to at least scold him in private; no, he had to air out all of his dirty laundry to the entire fucking casino.

After that, nobody dared approach him; even when Cachino was done screaming at and threatening him. Great, so he had to finish out his entire eight hours when he knew he’d make absolutely _no_ money today. The Omertas paid him practically nothing, so he lived off of tips.

“Fucking pricks, all of them,” he spat underneath his breath as he took a seat on the stage and fished for a Jet inhaler. The worst part of everything was that the Jet was beginning to have less and less of an effect on him, so he was blowing through it now. It was all he had and even _that_ was failing him.

He covered his face with one palm while he lifted the inhaler with the other and took a deep hit, praying to no one that it would at least do _something_. He needed this or he was liable to fall off the deep end.

Time slowed to a crawl and nothing was happening. It was going to take at least one more full canister to get him high, so he pulled out another one and breathed in until it was expended.

“Hello?” a soft voice asked. Rose reluctantly peered upwards to the source with a glare. While he was technically on the clock, he was enjoying the relative calm, and there was nothing he hated more than being bothered by customers in his few moments of respite.

“Screw off,” he growled as he chucked the now-empty inhaler off to the side. If he’d been thinking more clearly, he wouldn’t have been chasing away a client, especially after one of his bosses got cross with him; but he _wasn’t_ thinking clearly, and so couldn’t find it within himself to give a damn.

The woman standing before him didn’t flinch at his rude retort. In fact, her expression only softened. “I saw what that guy did earlier. He’s a real asshole, treating you that way.”

Rose had taken to ignoring her seeing as she appeared hellbent on bothering him, but some of his anger withered away when she spoke; whether that was because the drug was having some effect or what she said, he couldn’t be sure.

He just shrugged, but refused to make eye contact. “He’s always like that. Dude has zero chill.”

“That’s one way to put it,” the woman mused as she approached him and took a seat. Now he couldn’t help but look at her. Her every movement became sluggish, yet somehow graceful as the Jet clouded his head.

He watched almost in a daze as the woman stuck a cigarette between her teeth and probed her pocket for a lighter. The flame slowly burst to life, washing her pale face in a radiant glow as she lit it up. The ashes crumbling off the end were the color of blood, matching the color of her lips and making them appear to bleed as she exhaled black smoke.

Rose thanked the powers that be that the Jet was actually working.

“Want a puff?” she asked, offering him the now half-burned cigarette. His eyes hooded as the drug finally hit him fully, making his head feel weightless on his shoulders and slowly easing the tension away. He sighed and watched the watery image of his hand curl around the cigarette, then took a hit off of it and handed it back to the woman.

Rose peered at her as she stared off to some empty corner of the room and finished her cigarette, a thoughtful expression on her face. She was very fair-skinned, though her cheeks and nose were flushed from a slight sunburn. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and her eyes were a luscious hazel, nearly a smoldering golden in the light. She was quite alluring if he was being honest with himself.

Suddenly, her eyes flicked back to him, but his dulled senses made him too slow to look away before she caught him gawking. She held his gaze and her lips slowly formed into a smile. “Like what you see?”

He gave her a wry smile back. “You’re not the worst looking smoothskin I’ve ever seen.”

“And you’re not the worst looking ghoul I’ve ever seen,” she replied, her eyes wandering up and down his body. He was immensely grateful that he was in his uniform now so he could show off a bit. “Not that I’ve ever gotten too close to one. All I’ve ever seen are roaming ferals.”

“Well, that ain’t hard to beat,” Rose grumbled teasingly, feigning offense.

The girl laughed and pat his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come off that way.”

“Nah, I’m just fuckin’ with ya.”

With that, the woman looked away and pulled out another cigarette. Was her face slightly redder? It was hard to tell when the Jet was distorting colors for him.

She smoked the entire thing without uttering another word to him, seeming far away again. Rose laid back against the stage and shut his eyes, letting his mind go blissfully numb. When she finally said something, he wasn’t certain if one minute or one hour had passed by.

“Did I hear that man say your name is ‘Rose’?” she asked as she snuffed her cigarette out. Rose cracked an eye and watched as she reached for another. That was when he noticed the pack was nearly half-gone already. It had been full when she started.

“Whoa, maybe you should slow down on those,” he commented instead of answering.

The woman frowned. “Sorry, I chainsmoke when I’m nervous. Bad habit.”

Rose gave her a curious look. “What are you nervous about? You're in Vegas; let loose a little.”

“I... don’t usually come to places like this,” she admitted as she took a drag off her newly-lit cigarette.

Rose cocked a brow at her. “That so? Where are you from, then?”

“I live with my family at the NCR Sharecropper Farm. Or, well, I should say ‘lived.’ I don’t know if we’ll be able to go back now that the NCR is gone.” Her frown deepened as she held her now-forgotten cigarette between her fingers, letting the ashes get too large until they eventually fluttered to the ground.

“Oh... so you’re a refugee,” he pointed out, feeling saddened for her. She nodded and pulled another cigarette from her dwindling pack, twirling it as she reached for her lighter. “Yeah,” was her sullen reply.

“... You were right,” he said eventually, the comment seeming out of place. Before she could ask what he was talking about, he iterated, “My name.”

“Oh,” she laughed. “My name is Charlotte.”

“Hm. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he blurted. He’d meant to keep that in his head, but he frequently spoke his thoughts aloud when he was high. Her face _definitely_ turned redder this time. She quickly lit the cigarette she was holding and looked away from him. He wasn’t concerned; though he hadn’t meant to convey his thoughts openly, he wasn’t particularly embarrassed by the confession. He valued honesty, whether he was speaking or hearing it.

They again grew quiet for a time as Charlotte worked through the remaining cigarettes in her pack and Rose rode out the rest of his high. Just as it was beginning to wear off, a hated voice struck his ear.

“Rose! The fuck are you doing lying around?” Cachino’s voice cut through his pleasurable haze and he growled loudly. The man grabbed him and wrenched him up into a sitting position before he could react. “Why is there a customer just sitting here? Get back to fucking work before I throttle you, boy!” He wrapped his fingers around Rose’s throat and squeezed lightly for emphasis; Rose immediately shut up and cowered away from him.

Feeling he had proven his point, Cachino backed off and fixed him with a darkened scowl. Rose stood so fast he made himself dizzy. Charlotte had already fled, leaving him and the casino boss alone.

 _And now my only possible client for the day is gone_ , he groused inwardly as Cachino walked away. _That dickhead ruins everything_.

When Cachino disappeared from the room, Rose plopped himself back down on the stage and stared at the floor. Wasn’t any use in dancing when everyone was steering clear of him. He sighed and shut his eyes after he looked at the clock. Six more hours to go.

If he was out of Jet by the time his shift ended, he was determined to get so wasted that he couldn’t stay conscious. While he preferred drugs to alcohol, it was better than being in his right mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... I feel like this chapter is kind of a mess, but so is Rose so maybe it’s suitable. Sorry if it’s a bit low quality; I wasn’t initially sure where I was going with it and I’ve edited it quite a bit thus far. Hopefully it’s not as bad as I think it is. XD
> 
> Lore is hard. Where’s the smut, writer woman?
> 
> Soon™


	3. Eternal Damnation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose recalls a moment from his childhood.

True to his promise to himself, that night when Rose was relieved of duty, he purchased half his wages worth of alcohol. The Jet had worn off hours ago and he’d allowed himself to remain coherent for far too long. It was time to drink the pain away.

Though, admittedly, the day hadn’t been _all_ bad. The woman he’d met defied his expectations and returned to accompany him for almost the entirety of his otherwise arid work day. She seemed nice enough, but if he was being honest, she was a bit off. Who the hell came to a strip club just to socialize? Not even a proposition? A _single_ sly remark? No, there were only two possibilities: she was a few cards short of a deck or she wanted something.

Whatever, he wasn’t going to worry about it right now. Probably didn’t have to worry about it at all; he doubted she’d return a third time. There were several bottles of vodka calling his name and he meant to answer every single last one.

He forewent the shot glasses in favor of chugging the first bottle, getting several gulps down before his eyes began to water and the burn became too intense. He slammed the bottle down on his nightstand, drug a trash bin to him, and laid down on his side before repeating the process. He was a bit of a lightweight amongst ghouls so he knew he’d get sick from this, but fuck it; rather be sick in the stomach than sick in the head.

Oh, yeah, this was just what he needed... he was already feeling a buzz by the time he’d polished off half the bottle. Wouldn’t be long, especially if he kept up his current speed. He still missed his Jet, but he’d be damned if he was going to go back to Harris and beg him for more after what happened this morning.

... Not tonight, anyway. He had a good enough substitute for the time being.

•••

Rose’s alarm clock blared at 9:30 the next morning. He usually had a harder time sleeping, but before he could finish his last bottle, blessed unconsciousness had taken him and he’d slept almost soundly through the night. _Almost_. He’d woken up to puke a few times, but other than that, his night had been peaceful.

But now that it was morning, his head was absolutely pounding. He rubbed his temples and growled. This was exactly why he liked Jet better: no fucking hangovers.

He dragged himself out of bed anyway and drank a bottle of irradiated water. If he got ready now, he could have enough time to get some more from Harris and give him what he wanted. He wasn’t really a difficult man to please; a quick fuck was usually good enough for him if Rose wasn’t asking for much. A couple canisters ought to keep him satiated, at least for today.

He stretched and groaned when the motion went straight to his head, making it throb. Yeah, he could do for his fix about now. Fuck this hangover shit.

He spruced himself up and got dressed in all of five minutes, then he was out the door. Only, when he got to Harris’ room, he knocked and received no answer. Huh... his shift started later than Rose’s, so he was always there whenever he came calling. Despite Harris’ disposition, he wasn’t that social, so Rose doubted the older ghoul was downstairs... maybe visiting someone else for a change?

“God dammit... you had to pick today of all days to go frolicking?” Rose complained aloud as he turned to walk down the hall. He’d have to bum it off someone else. He’d ask Harlot; she liked doing hers with other people anyway and would share with him from time to time.

When he entered the showroom looking for his quarry, he didn’t find her immediately; what he _did_ find, or rather _who_ , pulled his attention away from tracking down the ghoulette.

Charlotte was here again... sitting on a couch with Harris of all people. Rose snorted derisively. Now it made sense: she was one of those picky types and was weighing her options. Although that didn’t quite explain why she’d spent so much time with him yesterday. Most likely just changed targets when he showed nothing but callousness.

Oh well, he didn’t care. At least he’d found Harris relatively easily.

Although, for some reason his eyes lingered, watching her face as the ghoul loomed over her. She was fairly short, he realized; Harris wasn’t a particularly tall man and he was still a head over her. Rose became more curious as the ghoul’s trademark hungry grin morphed into a look of disinterest and he shooed her away, walking off.

... What the hell was that about? Had Harris actually turned her down? He _never_ turned anyone down.

She must be more fucked up than he thought.

The girl’s shoulders slumped and she looked to the floor. Damn, he’d feel pretty bad about himself too if someone as eager as Harris wouldn’t have sex with him _for money_. He snorted again, though this time it was from trying to hold in a laugh.

Unfortunately, that caught her attention and she turned, her face brightening when she saw him. Oh, great... he’d wanted to slip away unseen and catch up to Harris, but it seemed everything was just as against him today as it was yesterday.

“Rose!” she called happily, pulling a cigarette from her mouth and skipping towards him.

”What the hell...?”

Rose backed away as she rushed over to him. He didn’t know why, but he was extremely wary of her, every corner of his mind screaming at him to keep her as far from him as possible. He almost turned to run, but she caught him before he could. He stiffened when she grabbed his arm and pulled him closer to...

... hug him? He was stunned for a moment, then he was overtaken by rage. She tried to seduce Harris and failed, now she was getting all touchy-feely with _him_?

Rose couldn’t stop the menacing growl that formed in his throat. He grabbed her and yanked her off of him. “The fuck do you think you’re doing, lady?”

She went limp and gave him a confused, hurt look. Ah, so she was desperate _and_ manipulative; that was an absolutely fantastic combination. “Unless you got caps, get the fuck away from me. I don’t know what you want, but I don’t got it, so leave. Me. Alone.”

He pushed her then, a bit harder than he’d meant to, sending her clattering to the floor. He turned his back on her and left then, hearing her sniffle as he made his way out of the showroom. Jesus, she just wouldn’t give up the act, would she?

He needed to find Harris or Harlot and get some Jet in him _fast_.

•••

Dusk had finally come and Rose had just gotten off duty. He was frustrated and exhausted. He’d found out from Beast that Harlot had taken a few weeks off to go visit her family, so that had been a dead end. Likewise, he’d never found Harris and his shift wouldn’t be over for a couple more hours, so now there was nothing to do but wait.

All things considered, hitting the booze again didn’t sound like the worst idea right now. He’d be kicking himself in the ass for it later most likely, but he was starting to get the shakes, so it would be a welcome distraction. He was feeling too crowded in his room right now anyway.

But where would he go? There weren’t too many places on the Strip that he was interested in visiting. He certainly didn’t want to go to the bar here at Gomorrah, surrounded by his asshole bosses. Similarly, the White Glove Society over at the Ultra-Luxe creeped him out and the Chairmen at the Tops were annoyingly persistent at trying to get their customers to gamble.

Eh, maybe he could go to Freeside. It’d been a long time since he’d last been to the Wrangler and the Garretts were down-to-earth people. Plus, the further he was from this prison, the better.

With that decided, he traded his uniform for some jeans and an old, beat-up black t-shirt. This was kind of exciting for him; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually been out. Usually he just holed up in his room after his shift and got high until he fell asleep. It was nice to change up the routine a little bit.

When he stepped outside onto the Strip, he sighed as the cool night air struck his face. The Mojave could get unforgivingly cold after sundown, but tonight was actually quite pleasant. And the view was absolutely gorgeous.

The further he walked from the lights, the more he could see the stars in the sky. They were endless in number and he marveled at them. His mother had told him a long time ago, when he was still a human boy, that the light from the stars was billions of years old, many of them having died eons before their light touched the Earth.

_“So why can you still see them if they’re dead?” He’d asked._

_“Because though they have died, their light travels forever through space and eventually reaches us. So, in that way, they are never truly gone. It is much like us when we die.”_

_“Where do people go when they die? Do they also travel through space?”_

_She laughed at that. “No. When people die, they go to a place called ‘Heaven’ if they were good. If they were bad, then... well, I’ll tell you when you’re older._

_“And where is Heaven?”_

_“I don’t know. Only God knows that.”_

_He looked up to the stars again, gazing at them with newfound bewilderment. It was sad that he was looking at the remnants of dead things. Yet it was still so beautiful... how could dead things possess so much beauty?_

_“... Is that where Dad went? And Gabriel?” She knelt next to him then, reaching for him instinctively, but letting her hands fall just short of touching him. His skin had just started to peel and she was afraid of hurting him, so she only gave him a chaste kiss on the top of his head._

_“I am certain that it is.”_

The memory came to him unbidden. It had been many years since he’d thought about his family. It felt like centuries ago that they’d left him. His mother had fallen ill from radiation poisoning shortly after that night and succumbed, leaving him the only living member of his family... because he had ghoulified.

... Had it really been so long? They’d died when he was 12. Now he was nearly _30_.

Fuck, he missed them. He’d stopped believing in God when He took them away from him and made him a monster. He’d go on like this for years, maybe centuries, until he finally died. Alone. With nothing. And what for? Was he being punished for something? Was he so bad that he deserved this meager existence?

If there _was_ a Hell, then surely this was it.

He clenched his fists and took off at a brisk sprint towards the Wrangler. Fuck thinking; this was why he used, and right now, he needed that numbness more than ever.


	4. This Is Who We Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose discovers what happened to Tourniquet... and _finally_ gets some more Jet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations will be listed at the end of the chapter.

“I told you, buddy, she isn’t here!”

When Rose entered the Atomic Wrangler, it was fairly busy. Approaching the bar, he saw only one seat open between an imposing figure in a black hoodie and a ghoul prostitute in some cowboy getup. Standing behind the hooded figure was a frail-looking ghoul man, currently engaged in a shouting match with the bartender.

“Then where the fuck is she? She was the best God damn lay on the Strip and I only want _her_!” The ghoul man stomped his foot and growled, though it sounded more like a strangled gurgle. Rose could smell the alcohol wafting from him as he slinked by unnoticed and took the only available seat at the bar. The hooded man quailed when he sat, but said nothing.

“I don’t give a fuck what you want! Tourniquet ain’t here, so pick someone else or get the fuck out!”

“I. Want. _Her_!” the ghoul man repeated, taking a step closer to the bar. Rose put his head down and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, lest the incorrigible drunk turn his ire towards him.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” the ghoul prostitute grumbled next to him as she pushed herself off her stool. “Five minutes of peace to enjoy my drink, is that too much to ask?”

She approached the ghoul man and his eyes flicked to her. He snarled as she grabbed his arms and forced them backwards, confining his wrists in a single palm. “Get the fuck off me, bitch!”

“Nope, nuh-uh. James already told you that Tourniquet ain’t here and I’m tired of listenin’ to ya. You’re disturbin’ the peace.” He growled at her and that’s when the ghoulette took her other hand and smacked him across the face, effectively silencing him. “That’s more like it... now, out with you!”

Everyone watched as the ghoul cowboy drug the man out the bar and flung him outside like he was weightless, despite the fact that he had been resisting. She wiped her hands on her pants and whistled a happy tune as if nothing was amiss, plunking back down in her seat next to Rose.

But he hardly noticed. He was too busy hanging on to what James had just said. _Tourniquet ain’t here_. Had she been here the entire time and he just never knew?

“You looking to order, or did you come to inspect the woodwork?” Rose started and looked up to find James Garret standing in front of him, waiting patiently.

“Uhh... got any whiskey?”

“Coming right up.”

Rose watched him closely as he filled up his cup. When James noticed, he smiled. “You keep staring at me like that and you’re gonna burn a hole through me.”

“Sorry... I just couldn’t help but overhear what you said about Tourniquet.” Rose took a swig of whiskey then and grimaced. It tasted like shit, but it got him drunk fast, which was all he cared about.

“Oh, you another one of her customers? Sorry to tell you, she’s gone. Nobody has any clue where she went.” _Customer? Was she...?_ James started wiping the bar top as he explained the details. “About a week ago, she didn’t show up for work. Went up to her room and found it was completely trashed. There was no blood, but it looked like there was a struggle. Makes me wonder if someone didn’t take her...”

Rose paused mid-drink and gaped at James. “Somebody kidnapped her?”

“That’s what it looks like to me. Can’t think of any other explanation.” An ache crept into Rose’s chest as he digested this new information. He’d thought so lowly of her, yet really she was no different than him. She had worked as a prostitute in Vegas, and he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she’d hated it as much as he did.

“What if she left because she didn’t want to be here?” he blurted before he had even processed what he was thinking. He clapped a hand over his mouth and James gave him a peculiar look.

“I feel like if she had wanted to go, she could have just told me. There was nothing keeping her here.”

“Sorry...” he said through his fingers.

But that was a thought, wasn’t it? What if that was actually the case? When he’d met her, it had seemed like she had a dark cloud hovering over her... like she was one more tap away from shattering. She tried to hide behind fake smiles and laughter, but Rose knew a broken soul when he saw one; hell, he was one himself.

James poured Rose another glass of whiskey and left him to his pondering as he turned his attention to another customer. Somehow, he knew that was the answer.

Suddenly, he felt guilty that he had ever judged her so harshly. She hadn’t deserved that. She’d never really done anything to him to warrant that reaction. That was just his hatred for other things tainting his memory of her. The few times they’d met, she’d always been kind and generous.

That made him feel better. He hoped that wherever she was now, she had found happiness. He knew better than anyone that Vegas could steal your heart away.

Beyond that, he aspired to escape, just like she had.

•••

When the clock struck midnight, Rose was, beyond a reasonable doubt, completely shitfaced. He stumbled down the Strip, nearly losing his balance several times over, before finally making it back to Gomorrah.

Nobody paid him any mind as he tripped up the stairs to reach his room, but halfway there, he remembered that Harris’ shift had been over for quite a while now. So with that, he changed course and headed for his room instead.

Rose knocked on the door and was answered immediately. “It’s open!”

When he turned the handle, he narrowly avoided falling into the room as his footing faltered, landing on his hands and knees instead of flat on his face. He could hear Harris laughing at him as he scuttled over to a chair.

When Rose finally looked up, he found that it wasn’t just the two of them. Kneeling between Harris’ legs was Davidson, in the midst of blowing him. Harris groaned when Davidson pulled him out of his mouth and bit the inside of his thigh. “Du schmeckst lecker...” he mumbled, running the flat of his tongue over the tip of Harris’ cock and licking up the pre-cum there before slipping him back inside.

Harris panted softly as he rocked his hips into Davidson’s face, one hand twisting in the other ghoul’s thick blonde hair and pulling it. “Ich werde kommen!“

Davidson purred loud and low, gripping Harris’ hips and pulling him closer to take him all the way into his mouth. Harris cried out and bucked his hips as much as he was able in Davidson’s strong grasp. He came into the large ghoul’s mouth, wrenching his hand in his hair and pulling roughly. Davidson groaned at the stinging sensation, appearing to enjoy it if the twitch of his own cock was anything to go by.

Rose just watched, his drunken stupor making the situation amusing. When Harris regained control of his breathing, he opened his eyes and shot Rose a predaceous leer, the side of his mouth curling up as he beckoned him forward. Rose obliged and wobbled to him, nearly falling again when Davidson clapped him on the shoulder. The big ghoul chortled deeply as he took Rose’s previous spot on the chair.

“What can I do for you, Rose...?” Harris asked, his voice a coarse growl.

“You know what I’m here for,” Rose slurred. Harris’ eye gleamed at that.

“I do. But I want to hear you say it.”

“Gimme some Jet, Harris... please. The alcohol ain’t doing it for me.”

Harris laughed again as he threw an arm over Rose’s shoulder and pulled him closer. “That’s more like it,” he whispered, swiping his tongue up the young ghoul’s cheek. “But what will you do for me if I give you some...?”

Rose’s eyes rolled as he fought against the alcohol to stay conscious. “I’ll suck you off... fuck you... let you use me... anything you want...”

“Oh, my... such a compelling offer... and so much better than the last time you were here.” Harris circled him like a vulture, keeping one hand on his shoulder to ensure he stayed on his feet. “I like it when you’re drunk... it’s so much easier to get you into bed...”

At that point, Harris pushed him forward, sending him sprawling onto his bed. Harris climbed in after him and tugged his hips backwards until he was forced up onto his hands and knees.

“Y’know, Rose, I’ve never told you this, but you’re one of my favorites...” Harris began as he toyed with the rather loose waistband of Rose’s jeans. “You have such a nice, tight little ass... and your mouth is to die for...”

Harris started petting Rose through his pants, causing his cock to stir before he eased down his zipper. “Don’t get me wrong... nothing is better than a warm, wet cunt, but you’re a close second.”

Rose groaned as Harris worked his pants down his hips, one hand stroking his ever-hardening cock while he leaned over and grabbed a bottle of lube from his bedside table. Rose shivered at the feeling of his body heat against his back. Substances always made him incredibly horny, making that part of the reason he depended on them to do his job. But right now, all he desired (second to some Jet) was for someone, anyone, to fuck him senseless.

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetie... I know how badly you want it...” Harris uncapped the lube and warmed it on his fingers before sliding two digits into Rose. His breath caught, and when he released it, a loud, desperate moan came out with it. His legs shook beneath him as Harris wiggled his fingers.

“Das ist geil...” Davidson groused, deep voice thundering in his chest as he tugged his cock to the image before him. Harris ogled him and licked his lips to tease him, earning him another growl. “Alter Lustmolch.”

“Wie es euch gefällt...”

Davidson smirked and nodded before giving himself a hard yank and throwing his head back against the chair. Harris inserted a third finger inside of Rose, causing him to wriggle uncontrollably beneath him. Harris paused and gave the base of his cock a hard squeeze. “Slow down, boy... I don’t even have my dick inside you yet.”

Rose whined as the pleasure faded. He’d been so close... “For the love of God, hurry up and fuck me already, Harris; I can’t take it...”

“You know I like to take my time...” Harris whispered, kissing the side of Rose’s neck as he twisted his wrist and pumped him a little harder. “Besides, you’re almost ready.”

And with that, Harris fingered him a little more until he was adequately stretched. He pressed the head of his cock to Rose’s ass and pushed inside, one hand on the young ghoul’s hip and the other still wrapped around his cock. Rose gasped and forced his body to relax at the familiar intrusion. Fuck, this felt so good...

“Ready?” Harris muttered against Rose’s ear. He nodded weakly, and just like that, Harris was thrusting into him. Rose clenched his teeth and moaned, his voice grating from the raw euphoria. Meanwhile, Harris was breathing heavily into his ear and jerking his cock as he fucked him. Rose trembled and nearly collapsed under the pleasure.

“Oh, yes... I love when you submit to me like this, Rose...” Harris snapped his hips hard into him, earning him a long, slurred moan. “You’re my little slut, aren’t you? You’d let me do anything to you for your fix, wouldn’t you?”

Rose nodded and gasped when Harris pressed his fist against the head of his cock and forced a long string of pre-cum to dribble from the tip. “Oh, you’re such a good boy...”

Rose began to shake harder as Harris pushed him closer to orgasm. Heat was building in his groin and his head became light as that knot wound tighter.

“Are you gonna cum for me, Rose?” Harris asked, nearly breathless. He was climbing his own mountain of pleasure.

“Yes... oh, fuck, yes...” Rose’s knuckles turned white as he clutched the sheets. The hand on his cock jerked harder and harder until he climaxed and came in Harris’ fist with a hoarse wail. Then, the hand left to cling messily to his hip as Harris came inside of him, moaning his pleasure and leaning into Rose’s back when he finished.

Both ghouls turned their heads simultaneously when Davidson grunted, each of them watching tiredly as the big ghoul’s cum spilled between his fingers. He slumped into the chair when the last of his spend leaked out, eyes closed and chest heaving. “Fick mich... das war gut...”

“Hast du dich amüsiert?” Harris asked as he rolled off of Rose. Davidson only responded with a subtle purr as he rubbed his shrinking cock.

“How ‘bout you, pup?” He elbowed Rose in the ribs, jostling him out of near sleep.

“You know I can’t understand either of you,” he complained.

Harris grinned. “I said, ‘did you enjoy yourself?’”

“Mhm,” Rose murmured. “Hey, can I crash here? I’m too fucked up to walk back to my room...”

Harris laughed at that. “Just don’t try to cuddle me and you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Du schmeckst lecker...” - “You taste delicious...”
> 
> “Ich werde kommen!” - “I am going to cum!”
> 
> “Das ist geil...” - “That is hot...”
> 
> “Alter Lustmolch.” - “Dirty old man.”
> 
> “Wie es euch gefällt...” - “As you like it...”
> 
> “Fick mich... das war gut...” - “Fuck me... that was good...”


	5. Sea of Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose receives an unexpected visitor in the night.

As Rose looked out towards the ocean, he was hard-pressed to remember a more breathtaking vista. The cloudless sky was a captivating array of red, purple, blue, and gold as the sun settled beneath the horizon. The oceanic breeze was warm and slightly wet as it swept him by.

When his mother had told him of her journey to the coast, he had vowed one day to see it for himself. Watching her eyes sparkle as she recalled the event had been all the convincing he’d needed. And now that he was here, feeling the sun-warmed sand beneath his bare feet and the water crashing against his body, he’d never felt more at peace.

“Cristian,” a soft voice sounded. He turned his head slowly towards the voice, smiling at the image of his mother beside him. She was adorned in a white silken robe, a crown of flowers placed neatly atop her head. Her white-blonde hair swished to the side as it caught in the wind. She turned to face him, looking at him fondly with his very own eyes. A moment of solidarity passed between them before she turned back to the setting sun.

“The heart of man is very much like the sea,” she recited. Rose followed her gaze to the place where the sky and the water joined seamlessly. “It has its storms, it has its tides; and in its depths, it has its pearls, too.”

Rose felt her arms wrap around him then, the warmth of her nearly too much to bear. The strength of her love sought to humble him, to bring him to his knees. He returned her embrace, and despite it all, dissolved comfortably into her touch.

“I miss you, Mom,” he whispered to her, nuzzling the top of her head with his frayed cheek.

“My son, my beautiful son,” she crooned. “I am not gone. There is not a day that you have been without me.”

When he finally broke away from her, the look of motherly affection she shone struck him as if it had been one of the purest disdain.

“How can you look at me?” he asked, his voice cracking under the strain of holding back his tears. “How can you still love me after what I’ve become? After what I’ve done? I’m a freak. I am abhorrent and unclean; forsaken and lost. Why have you not turned your back on me as all the others have?”

Each word he spoke became more difficult than the last until he broke down into manic sobs, his knees refusing to support his burden any longer. “God, please forgive me,” he choked. “I’m an abomination-“

The rest of his words died on his tongue as his mother tipped his chin upwards. His lips trembled and tears flowed down his cheeks as she looked him straight in the eyes.

“I will always love you, no matter your appearance or what you have done,” she replied simply before retracting her hand, his head falling against his chest. Night was descending upon them, though the moon illuminated them with the same light as the sun. It was then that Rose could hear an irregularity in the waves.

He lifted his head once more and saw his mother submerged waist-deep in the ocean. He bolted to his feet and chased after her as she was lulled further out into the azure abyss. “Mom, wait! Don’t leave me here again!” he called.

“It is time for me to return home,” she stated calmly, her shoulders nearly beneath the water now. “But know that I am with you and I am waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me where?” he yelled, but she was swallowed by the sea before he received his answer. He frantically pursued her, but when the water became too deep, he was swept off his feet and carried gently back to the shore. He looked to the vastness of the ocean helplessly, knowing that he could not follow her.

“Don’t go... don’t leave me here...” He dug his broken fingernails into the sand as he looked over his destroyed hands. He was absolutely hideous. He deserved the fate from which he suffered.

But that didn’t make him long to go with her any less.

A blinding rage burgeoned inside of his chest then, and he let it loose with a feral shriek. Why him? Why couldn’t he just go with his family? Why did he have to be all alone?

“ _I hate you!_ ” he bellowed to the sky, to the cold and unforgiving God above. “ _I FUCKING HATE YOU!_ ”

And just like that, Rose was ripped away from the shore and thrown back into his own body. Immediately upon waking, he bent over the side of the bed and vomited. Harris gave a frustrated groan beside him as he lifted himself into a sitting position.

“God fucking dammit, Rose... I knew I shouldn’t have let you stay here,” he growled groggily as Rose continued to retch and heave. “You better fucking clean that shit up or I’m going to beat your drunken ass.”

“Shut the fuck up, Harris,” Rose grumbled before another wave of nausea had him puking again.

“Christ Almighty, get up and go to the bathroom, you fucking moron!” Harris griped before pushing him out of bed. Rose crawled on one hand to the toilet, the other clutching his stomach and trying his damndest not to throw up again before he made it there.

He didn’t succeed.

“Alright, that’s fucking enough,” Harris said as he drug him by his shirt collar and shoved his head into the toilet so he could finish. “Hurry the fuck up so you can clean my room and get the fuck out.”

“Fuck you... you cradle-robbing piece of shit,” Rose breathed before emptying his stomach all over again. Harris suddenly pulled him up to stand, only to knock him back down to his knees with a powerful punch to the side of his face. His nostrils dripped blood, the excess running down the back of his throat and causing him to gag. Harris grabbed him up again and forced them into a deadlock.

“Do. Not. _Ever_. Disrespect me again,” Harris warned, his voice more poisonous than cazador venom. Rose went rigid, readying himself for another punch that never came. Harris only stared at him, dark eyes piercing, before he yanked him to the bedroom door and tossed him out into the hallway.

Rose turned and looked up to find Harris bending down towards him, their foreheads nearly touching. “I suggest you learn your place before returning to me.” He tossed the Jet Rose had purchased out with him before straightening up and slamming the door. Rose sighed and made his way carefully back to his room, trying not to move too quickly for fear of upsetting his stomach again.

God only knew how much he hated this place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote from Rose’s mother comparing men to the sea is directly from Vincent van Gogh.


	6. Don’t Let Me Drown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when Rose is sinking beneath the surface, something drags him out of the water.

Rose hadn’t slept for days.

While it was true that ghouls required less sleep than their human counterparts, sleep deprivation effected each the same. He was beginning to feel neurotic and delirious, but he couldn’t go back to the shore where he’d met his long-dead mother. If he saw her again, only for her to leave him behind for the third time, he was going to lose his mind.

He needed to calm himself down... he needed Jet. Yes, yes; Jet would fix it. Jet fixed _everything_.

He fumbled around in his stash, hands shaking and vision fading in and out. His heart was pounding as if he was doing some sort of vigorous exercise. Fuck... _fuck_. He couldn’t find any Jet... he knew he had some because the Omertas had just paid him-

He cursed when he jabbed himself with an uncapped needle. He picked up the offending substance and glared at it as if it had just called his mother a whore. Psycho...

Rose had only tested Psycho on a few rare occasions. The first time had been when he’d just started working at Gomorrah and was experimenting with different types of drugs. He’d blacked out and woken up twelve hours later half a mile from the Strip.

The second time, he’d attacked a female prostitute and nearly broken every bone in her body, ultimately ending her career and earning him a beating directly from Nero himself. The casino boss had nearly killed him, calling it “an eye for an eye.” He’d only managed to recover fully because of his ghoulish mutation.

And the third time... he couldn’t even remember. He’d shot it up and awoken in an NCR infirmary with two broken ribs, a fractured wrist, and a shattered fist.

Most days he wondered why he kept the stuff around. He didn’t like the type of high he got from it, so he never really used it. Realistically, he would be selling it or trading it off for Jet if he was smart.

... But he wasn’t smart, was he?

Rose turned the drug over in his hand as a thought blossomed in his head. He remembered an instance where he’d found a dead prostitute in one of the bathroom stalls. The culprit, or rather _culprits_ , had been several empty Psycho needles.

Why hadn’t he thought of this before? This was his way out! He could see his family again. He could see his mother...

Rose gripped the needle and upturned his wrist, poising the drug at a thick, blue vein. He pushed it hard enough that the needle pierced the skin, but didn’t quite make it into his bloodstream. He broke out into a nervous sweat as he tried to will himself to just finish it.

He inserted it enough for half the dose to make it through, feeling the drug searing through his arm and up into his bicep before the pain suddenly abated. He dropped it when his alarm going off made him jump.

“Fuck off!” he screamed to nothing in particular, picking up the nearest item and throwing it at the clock. It fell to the floor, where it shattered into several pieces. Rose clenched his head in his fists and bowed his back. _Coward. Fucking coward. You have everything to gain by ending it here and you’re still too weak to do it?_

He growled at himself, the sound increasing in volume until it became a roar. Why the fuck couldn’t he just _drop dead?_

Fuck it. Fuck _all_ of it. He smacked the stash of drugs away from him with the back of his hand, the contents scattering in every direction. He stormed down the stairs, leaving the mess behind to clean up later, not even bothering to take any Jet along with him.

•••

Unfortunately for Rose, today was proving to be a day that he was in high demand, though he’d run more than a few customers off with his untamed aggression. He couldn’t even find it in himself to care about all of the money he was losing. Nothing mattered to him today.

He did at least maintain enough of his common sense to return to his room to get some Jet. Now that he was on break, he was sucking on an inhaler and trying to steady himself, though a strange feeling had settled in the back of his skull, like there was a wild deathclaw scratching to get out.

“Fucking junkie Rotter,” one of the human prostitutes muttered, rolling his eyes at him as he passed by. Before the man even had a chance to blink, Rose had him on the floor, holding him down with a strength that didn’t quite feel like his own. He snarled viciously in the man’s face and had him whimpering like a child.

“What was that, Hemlock? I didn’t hear you. Perhaps you’d like to repeat yourself?” Was that even him speaking? That didn’t sound like his voice; it was black and almost demonic.

The man bucked beneath him, trying with all his might to free himself, but Rose had a nearly unbreakable grip on him. His face was flushed red from lack of oxygen as Rose squeezed his windpipe harder. 

“You’ve fucking gone feral,” the man sobbed. It was the last thing he said before he fell unconscious, but even then, Rose didn’t stop. He hissed and felt a spark of glee as the man slipped into oblivion. Just a little more and he would rid this blasted world of one more piece of waste...

“Rose! Rose, stop; you’re going to kill him!” Who was that? _This_ voice was familiar to him. He’d heard it before...

“Rose! _Rose!_ Please!” A small hand latched onto his shoulder and he let the man go, only to redirect his fury to this new target. She screamed as Rose throttled her violently.

Then, something struck him in the back of the neck, and everything faded.

•••

When Rose came to several hours later, he was leaned back in the chair in his dimly-lit room. A glance at the window told him it was nighttime. He felt stiff all over, grunting from the pain as he folded his fingers in to loosen them up. A dull throb had nestled in the back of his neck, and when he rubbed it, it felt tender to the touch. Then he remembered everything that led up to this.

Fuck... he’d be lucky if he kept his job after what he did. He was already on thin ice with the Omertas.

He sighed, lifting his downcast eyes to see a man sitting on his bed with a large black hoodie, his entire face hidden behind it. Rose jumped and felt his muscles tense in preparation to defend himself.

“The fuck are you doing in my room?” he groused, trying to conceal his own fear. “I didn’t invite you in here. Get out!”

“Rose, it’s okay.” Rose only relaxed because the intense confusion he felt rinsed the anger away. That was _not_ a male voice.

“Who are you?” he asked, now subtle and quiet. The woman pulled back her hood and Rose’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Charlotte...?”


	7. The Birds and the Bees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~~Mama Ebony teaches you how to give a good blow job.~~ Rose spends a romantic evening with the girl he never dreamed of.

Charlotte eyed Rose reproachfully, and when he examined the bruises around her throat, he understood her concern. Had he really done that? It was so unlike him to attack _anyone_ , much less an unarmed woman. Why would he...?

The answer was still lying all over the floor. Horror and shock overtook him. Just that one small dosage of Psycho had caused so much harm?

 _No_. The drug hadn’t caused anything. _He_ had.

“Oh, my God... I’m so sorry...” He pushed himself out of the chair and approached her slowly, and at first she recoiled as some sort of innate self-defense mechanism activated before she lowered her guard.

Rose didn’t really know why he felt the need to console her, but it wasn’t right to leave her be shaken and afraid in his presence. He wasn’t violent by nature. This had all just been a huge mistake.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated meekly, taking a seat beside her. “I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I wasn’t in my right mind... I...”

_... am a fucking worthless addict. Am a sorry excuse for a human being. Am lower than dirt._

“I forgive you.”

He met her eyes; so beautiful, so brilliantly golden, like the sun on the shore...

... He couldn’t look at her anymore.

“What are you doing here?” he asked bleakly. “I told you I had nothing to offer you.”

“I’m not after anything you have to offer.” Rose’s head snapped back up and he leveled her with a disbelieving glare. “Would you believe me if I said... I just wanted to be your friend?”

Rose scoffed. “No.”

“Well, it’s true.” She scooted closer to him, so close that he couldn’t avert his gaze again. “When I first saw you, you looked so sad... so hurt... and nobody seemed to care. I just... wanted to make you feel better.”

Rose lowered his face to his palms, trying to sort through the storm of thoughts in his head.

_Stay away from her._

_She only wants to use you._

_Give her a chance._

When he looked up again, she appeared on the brink of tears. This woman... he had judged her just as he had done to Tourniquet. Yet here she was, after he’d all but proven that he was the epitome of human garbage. There should be no doubt in her mind as to just how terrible he is. But she chose to be near, not for the first time, when he needed somebody the most. Even after he did everything he could to keep her at arm’s length.

Why? He’d wanted someone to recognize him as more than a whore for so long, and when that person had finally come, he’d fought her every step of the way.

_Why?_

She could have just ignored him. She could have left him to his misery. She should have when he did nothing but push her away.

But she didn’t.

Without another thought spared, he leaned in and kissed her.

Charlotte gasped as Rose pressed his lips shakily against hers. She couldn’t move; could hardly breathe. This felt so good... so new... and yet also so familiar...

Rose moaned softly against her mouth, and that’s when she crumbled.

She flung an arm around him and kissed him back as she climbed into his lap and pressed their bodies together. Rose moaned again, the sound slightly more wanton as their kiss suddenly reached a fever pitch. A warm bolt of arousal shot straight down her spine.

Then, she felt something prodding at her from below, pulling another gasp from her lungs. Rose chuckled before he pulled his mouth away from her, his green eyes heavy with desire.

“Sorry... I got a little carried away.” Yet, to the utter detriment of his apology, he ground his swelling cock between her legs. She blushed profusely and shivered, though she wasn’t the slightest bit cold.

“It’s okay... I kind of like this.” Rose smirked and purred as he rubbed himself against her harder.

“That so...? Would you also ‘kind of like’ to see...?”

Charlotte chewed the bottom of her lip nervously and nodded. Fuck, she was cute.

Rose lifted her slightly and placed her further back on his lap so that he had room to unbuckle his jeans. He pulled them down just enough to free his cock, now standing at full mast. Charlotte bit some of the skin off of her lip, eyes glued intently to his manhood and the hand he was using to pleasure himself.

He moaned as he lifted his hips in time with his hand, reclining back to give Charlotte a better view. She was so excited that she was barely breathing. He wished so badly that she would reach out and touch him...

He moved his hand up his shaft to the head and yanked it a few times before a strand of pre-cum dripped from the tip. Charlotte went completely still, her eyes following the fat droplet as it descended back down his shaft.

What would it take to get her to touch him? She clearly wanted to. Was she that scared of him? Or even that _disgusted_ by him?

Or maybe... she wanted him to beg?

He could do that.

“Charlotte... oh, Charlotte... please, fuck me...” He moaned nice and loud for her and showed her his throat as his head fell back. “Oh, my God... please, sit on my cock... let me inside of you...”

Another dribble of pre-cum worked its way out of his tip as he played with himself. At that point, he felt her weight lift off of him. Oh, no, he’d crossed another line; he’d frightened her away. He stopped everything and went to chase after her, but froze when he felt something moist and hot wrap around his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” he mewled, crumpling to the bed as her tongue licked up the salty fluid trickling from his cock. She lacked any sort of finesse, struggling to get more than just the head inside and constricting her jaw to the point that Rose could feel the scrape of teeth. He winced and grunted when she took him too deep and nearly bit him.

“Whoa, whoa, hey; careful-” He cringed when she pulled off of him and felt her teeth again.

She gave him a vexed look. “Does it not feel good?”

“Uhh...” Working the profession he did, Rose had experienced plenty of terrible blow jobs, but even after all this time, he still had trouble communicating to the woman (or man) that he wasn’t enjoying it. He had to broach this carefully...

“Not... exactly?”

Charlotte’s entire demeanor folded in on itself. She looked so disappointed...

“Hey... wait.” She didn’t move, only continued to stare dejectedly at the floor. “Have... have you ever done this before?” She merely shook her head, still refusing to look at him.

Oh... _oh_. A grin drug across his face and he licked his teeth. “I can teach you... who better to learn from than a whore?”

She finally deigned to look at him, and when she did, she mirrored his smile and nodded before repositioning herself above his cock. Rose placed a hand on the back of her head and gently coaxed her down. “Open your mouth, but relax your jaw... that’s it...”

Rose groaned as she sunk down on his cock. “Watch your teeth... it does _not_ feel good when they touch it. Now... move your head up and down...”

She followed his instructions to the letter, so well in fact that he barely had to guide her. “Oh, fuck yes...” he growled, her careful, novice touch turning him on just as much as what she was doing.

“Use your tongue... it feels good when you lick the head. Keep it flat when you’re going down so that the shaft gets nice and wet... oh... oh, yes...”

Charlotte swirled her tongue slowly around the head of his cock, flicking away more pre-cum as it gathered there. When she took him into her mouth again, she stroked the underside of him with her tongue, keeping it pressed against him as she slid her head up and down.

“Fuuuuck... you’re a fast learner,” he huffed. His hand twisted in her hair just to give him something to hold on to, enjoying the feel of her for a moment longer before pushing her off of him.

She looked hurt, but he smiled at her. “Remember, this is a lesson... I want to show you something.” Rose lifted his cock so she could see the underside more clearly. He placed his thumb against the small piece of skin underneath the head, connecting to the shaft.

“This right here,” he explained as he rubbed small circles into it, sucking in a sharp inhale as he touched, “is like a dude’s g-spot. It’s insanely sensitive, and if you lick it... well... I’m gonna cum pretty fucking fast.”

Charlotte watched with acute interest as he demonstrated his point. Adding a bit more pressure to the spot caused his knees to shake and for him to release a shuddering moan.

“Go on, then,” he panted. “Try it...”

Her mouth was on him right away, tonguing the exact spot he’d indicated tenaciously. Rose keened as she assaulted him with her tongue and lips. Screw the rest; he could teach her that later. Right now, he was aching with the need to cum.

“Fuck... don’t stop... oh, please; don’t stop!” That pleasant tingle was growing rapidly. He took himself back into his fist, pumping his shaft as Charlotte continued to work the head. “I’m gonna cum... I’m gonna cum! _Yes!_ ”

Rose nearly screamed as he blew inside Charlotte’s mouth. She coughed and spluttered as she pulled away, Rose giggling tiredly at her as she wiped off her tongue with her hand. “It’s okay, I don’t like to swallow, either. Just spit it out; I won’t be offended.”

Another blush covered her cheeks as a glob of cum dropped from her mouth. Oh, how life threw so many curveballs his way. He was teaching a literal blushing virgin how to fuck.

Or, well, he assumed she was a virgin anyway. At this point, it probably wouldn’t hurt to confirm that sentiment.

“So... if you’ve never given head before, does that mean there are also other things you haven’t done?”

She laughed, embarrassed. “Am I that obvious?”

“Yeah. But that’s okay, sweetheart; I find this to be refreshing... and incredibly fucking sexy...” He folded his arms around her and pulled her back into his lap so he could give her another kiss, tasting himself on her lips. “You know, there’s quite a bit that I can show you, if you have the time...”

An absolutely devious expression crossed her features. “Show me.”


	8. Make Love to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte has a secret to tell Rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out to be a long one, so I divided it into multiple chapters... but hopefully, it’s worth it!
> 
> And yes, the innuendo was intended. What do you think I am? _Decent?_

Rose purred as he pulled Charlotte closer, compressing her tightly against his body. She sighed, feeling the almost unnatural warmth of him seeping into her bones. It felt so good to hold someone like this. It was almost as if she was his very own.

But still, he wanted to be even closer; to feel _more_ of her.

“Raise your arms,” he whispered. She complied, and he lifted the oversized hoodie off of her, leaving her in the beaten white tank she wore beneath. Rose’s purr became spurious as he took in an eyeful of her large, full breasts. “Nice...”

Charlotte lifted an eyebrow at him and he retaliated with a dirty grin. “What? I may be a ghoul, but I’m still a man.”

She laughed and smacked him playfully. “Or you’re just a pervert.”

“I won’t confirm or deny.” He took both breasts into his hands and looked thoughtful as he weighed them. “Yep, these will do.”

Charlotte smacked him again and laughed. “Ow! What’re you beating me up for? I’m just showing some appreciation for the female form!”

“Appreciation, huh?” That devious smile of hers returned and she began to pluck away the fabric from her torso. Rose’s mouth suddenly went dry.

She tossed the flimsy garment away, the only thing remaining between him and her flesh a brazier that looked many sizes too small by the way it hugged her form. Her breasts were almost popping out of the cups.

God damn, she looked utterly delicious. When was the last time he’d been this excited over a pair of tits? Probably when he was still a teenager, he mused.

Rose couldn’t stop himself from touching her. He unlatched the bra with practiced fingers, shoving it away when it fell into her lap. He laid himself back and pulled her with him, slipping a nipple between his teeth and sucking it, flicking the light pink bud with his tongue when it started to harden.

“Oh, my God,” Charlotte snuffled. She could feel herself dripping beneath, a heat growing inside her belly as she watched him suckle her. It wasn’t necessarily the feeling of what he was doing turning her on, but the sight of his pleased face as his tongue lathered over her skin.

Rose opened his eyes upon hearing her voice, the lust in them causing her to shudder. He kept eye contact as he popped the now swollen nipple out of his mouth and moved to the other one, grasping the breast in his palm as he too teased it to hardness.

Charlotte’s breathing quickened as her body reacted to his actions. She began to push her crotch into him, feeling that he was no longer flaccid. Rose groaned as his exposed cock was ground against her naked abdomen.

“I want to fuck you so badly...” he hissed between his teeth. Charlotte nibbled on her bottom lip again.

“Do it...”

Rose shook his head and laid back against his pillow before picking at the button on her jeans. “Wanna make you cum, first... get these damn things off.”

He wasn’t trying to be rude, but he was feeling extremely impatient all of a sudden. Charlotte didn’t seem to care; she lifted her hips slightly, wiggling her ass against him as she peeled off her pants. Just that small movement alone nearly had him out of breath.

Rose pulled off his shirt as Charlotte finished sliding her pants down her legs, her underwear going with them as she shucked them onto the floor. When she lowered herself onto him, her arousal leaked onto his stomach. Rose’s purr returned as he grabbed onto her thighs and hiked her up his chest to straddle his face.

Rose opened her up like the pedals of a flower and set her clit against his mouth, allowing him to lazily flick it with his tongue. Charlotte screamed and clamped her legs around his skull while simultaneously trying to pull away.

“The fuck was that?” she wheezed.

Rose looked up at her, perplexed at her reaction. “I’m... trying to make you cum?” he tried. “Wait... have you ever even _touched_ yourself before?”

“Uhm... no?” she replied bashfully. Rose smiled into her and brushed the tip of his tongue against her oversensitive clit. Her back went ramrod straight and she struggled against him for a brief moment. Oh, this was going to be fun...

“Just relax... you’ll get used to it soon enough.” Rose kissed the inside of her thigh before taking her clit between his lips and suckling it, just like he had done to her breasts. Charlotte writhed atop him, trying to pull away, but Rose used his arm to hold her in place. “Don’t fight it; just trust me.”

Charlotte forced herself to calm down, and when she did, the oversensitivity evaporated into pure pleasure. She moaned, grabbing onto the sides of his head and angling her hips towards him. Rose hummed against her, a powerful jolt in her spine forcing her hips to jerk on his mouth. Her muscles began to tighten, the sensation making her feel as if her chest was caving in, though she didn’t want it to end.

“Oh, my God... it feels so good...” Her hands sunk to Rose’s shoulders and lightly clawed him as his tongue continued to press into her. “Please... please!”

Rose sealed his lips tightly around her and gave her a few potent sucks, his tongue working rapidly against the tip of her clit. Charlotte’s quiet begging gave way to a loud squalling as she suddenly spasmed and curled forward, canting her hips along his mouth as she came. Rose groaned and swept his tongue along her slit, licking her clean and lowering her back onto his chest when she finished.

“How was your first orgasm, darling?” Rose asked, his voice a husky rustle. Charlotte looked at him, her eyes drooping in satisfaction.

“That was amazing... oh, I feel light as a feather!” She giggled and ran her fingertips along his ribcage, forcing another growl from him. His cock fidgeted every time she moved or even _talked_ , and there was nothing he wanted more than to hilt himself deep inside of her.

Charlotte was oblivious to said desires, at least until he had her flipped over on her back beneath him with his cock brushing between her folds. She squeaked as he pushed the tip inside and coddled his face against her neck to nip at her pulse point.

The shock on her face made Rose bark out a laugh. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“How’d you move so fast?”

He laughed again and kissed her softly behind her ear. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, doll.” But he didn’t really want to talk about that, so before she could say anything else, he thrust forward and buried himself inside of her heat. “Fuck, you’re so tight...”

Charlotte tensed up and winced when he drug himself out and pushed back in. “Hurts...”

“I know,” Rose cooed, moving his hips slowly to allow her to stretch. “It’ll be a little uncomfortable until you get used to me, but I’ll take it nice and easy...”

And he did. He kissed down her neck to her chest and back up again to distract her and held her to him as he bucked into her languidly. He could feel a slow trickle of liquid down his cock. Blood, he expected. He looked between them to find it was indeed blood.

Gratification warmed him as he watched her taking him. He’d never slept with a virgin before, and it was endearing in a way to be her first. He felt special, even though deep down he knew he wasn’t. She’d probably regret this come morning.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, concern causing her brow to pinch together. It was only then that he realized he’d gone still.

Rose sighed. “Are you sure you want this? I mean... it’s probably too late to ask considering...” He couldn’t even finish his sentence as guilt clutched his gut. Charlotte grappled his face again and touched her cheek to his.

“I love you, Rose.”

His arms went weak and he had to fight to keep himself from crashing down into her. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do!” She gave him a simmering glare, but her anger quickly faded. It was easy enough to understand why he might be skeptical. “Look... I know you hardly know me... and maybe this is stupid, but when I first saw you, I really fell hard... you’re so handsome and unique. I’ve never seen anyone like you before.”

Now it was Rose’s turn to tremble as she confessed to him. “Then, you accepted me so easily. When I approached you, you just talked to me. Everyone else here is all business and money, but you’re genuine... you wear your heart on your sleeve and aren’t afraid to show the world who you are. I was awestruck by you.”

Rose was falling into her, his arms losing strength by the second. “Ever since that day, I’ve wanted to get to know you more. It’s been hard because you’ve been so distant, but I get it. Harris... told me some things.”

Rose narrowed his eyes at the mention of Harris. “Like what?”

“He said you have a really bad Jet addiction and that you’d been withdrawing a lot lately...” she laughed, though it was a bitter sound. “He told me to stay away from you. Said you weren’t worth the trouble. Then he tried to get me to sleep with him and I said ‘no-‘“

Rose shot up away from her, his anger restoring energy to his limbs. “I’m gonna kill that fucking prick!”

“Hey, wait!” Charlotte encased him in her arms before he could leave. When she kissed him, his fury was immediately forgotten and he molded into her again. She stroked his hairless head and rubbed his back soothingly as he reigned in control of himself. “Don’t let him ruin this moment for you. For _us_.”

She was right, of course. He could deal with Harris later. “Okay,” he mumbled, placing another kiss to her lips before pushing his tongue inside. She moaned, encouraging him to continue.

Charlotte wrapped a leg around Rose’s hip, urging him deeper. He increased the pace of his thrusts slightly, feeling her walls accommodating to him. Likewise, her moans were less strained. He moaned back, the beginnings of an orgasm building within him.

Rose deepened their kiss, becoming almost aggressive as the pleasure mounted higher and higher. He snarled when he reached his peak, and for a second it seemed his heart stopped as he released inside of her. Charlotte moved her hips in tandem with his when she felt his seed spreading inside of her, both of them slowing together when his orgasm subsided.

Rose fell weakly to the side of her as not to crush her beneath him, his cock slipping out of her and softening against her thigh. Charlotte faced him and snuggled into his chest, allowing his satisfied purring to soothe her to sleep.

“I love you, too,” he whispered to her, though he wasn’t quite sure she heard it.

That was, until he felt her smiling against his chest.


	9. Blood in the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose confronts Harris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... gave... you...
> 
> Blood! Blood! Gallons of the stuff; gave you all that you could drink and it has never been enough!
> 
> I gave you blood... blood... _blooooood!_
> 
> ... I’m the kind of human wreckage that you love!
> 
> “Blood” by _My Chemical Romance_ , because I’m still an edgy teenager at heart.

When Rose fell asleep that night, his dreams took him back to the shore; and though he was apprehensive to return, he could feel a lingering presence comforting him. He sat on the shoreline and let the waves lap at his feet as he watched the sun rise, but out at sea, he could see a violent storm brewing. The sun painted the sky the color of blood, its reflection appearing to darken the waters as well.

He felt a firm grip on his shoulder, making the storm feel much further away. He didn’t need to look to see who was with him. The answer was obvious.

Out the corner of his eye, Rose saw Charlotte smiling down at him. She squeezed him before turning her back on the waters and the storm that churned the sea in the distance.

It was time to go back.

Rose opened his eyes to Charlotte’s loving gaze and smiled. “Good morning,” he said, voice roughened by sleep. She responded with a kiss to his cheek.

They lay in silence, the calm before the storm, the only sound their combined breathing. Charlotte broke through that silence when she hummed, ruminating the long scar that split his face in half as she trailed it with a fingertip.

It was a gruesome memory, but it was only natural that she was curious about its origins. People asked him about it all the time, but he never told anyone. It didn’t exactly make for good pillow talk.

But more and more he was realizing that he could confide in her, and so he did.

“The first day I started working here, I was approached by a man.” Charlotte perked up as he spoke. “I was 16, and honestly, I was pretty eager. Seemed like a pretty sweet gig, getting paid to fuck a line of hot women. That’s what I thought this was going to be, at least.

“I never considered that men would want to sleep with me, too. So when my first customer was a man, I was wary and slightly appalled. I had no idea what I was getting into, taking this job.

“So, I refused, but it wasn’t within my contract to say ‘no’ to a customer. He complained to Big Sal and I was forced into it. And he was rough with me. Couldn’t sit down for a week after he was done...

“... but another thing I didn’t know at the time was to always take the money up front. I told him afterwards that he needed to pay me, and when I did... he pulled a knife on me.”

Rose thumbed his scar, his recollection of the event making it tingle sympathetically. “He was stronger than me. I fought against him, of course, but he overpowered me and managed to cut my face up before somebody heard the commotion and came gunning for me.”

He smiled staidly and folded his arms behind his head. “And guess who it was, yanking that jackass off of me?” He paused for dramatic effect, grinning widely at Charlotte’s inquisitive stare.

“Harris.” Rose said his name as if he’d chewed it up and was spitting it back out. “He talked to me a bit afterwards... I was panicked and distraught. He told me he had something that could ease the pain.”

At that, he reached over to pluck an empty inhaler off his bedside table, showing it to her. “Jet.”

Charlotte’s eyes expanded impossibly and her mouth fell open. She was speechless. In the short time she’d been here, she’d never seen Rose without at least one container of Jet.

When Rose looked at her once more, it was as if he was gazing through her. A red rim outlined his eyes and they were slightly bloodshot. He started to quiver.

Was he withdrawing again?

Rose took in a heavy breath to slow the hammering of his heart in his chest. Knowing who Harris was now, remembering his trickery infuriated him; but what was worse was the fact that he _still_ , to this day, allowed Harris to take advantage of him for his own personal gain. He had to wonder when he’d stopped caring about himself. When had he become so apathetic?

Maybe he had died with his family after all. It was only now, over a decade and a half later, that life was being given back to him. This smoothskin girl was resuscitating him long after he’d given up hope. Given up _living_.

“Rose?”

Charlotte’s voice broke him out of his reverie and he shook his head to clear it of the cobwebs.

“What was I saying?” he asked, more to himself than to her. “Ah, right... anyway...”

He cleared his throat and continued. “After he got me high, he told me he could teach me how to please a man. He promised me that I would learn to like it. The drugs made me horny, so I just jumped into bed with him without a care in the world. I loved it; the Jet made me feel so free, like it fixed everything that was broken inside... but shattered glass can’t be put back together again. You can put the pieces in place, but there will always be cracks and shards missing.

“And that’s what I was. _Am_. Shattered glass, irreparably broken. Harris knew that and used it to twist me to his will. That’s how our little deal came to be. I give him my body and he gives me the one thing in the world that can make life bearable.”

As he told her more, everything started to come full circle. Charlotte’s last encounter with the sleazy ghoul replayed in her head and it all clicked into place:

_“I would suggest you stay away from him,” Harris said scornfully as he backed her up against the wall. “He is a slave to his drug and he would do absolutely anything to get it. He’ll lie, he’ll steal, he’ll fuck, he’ll kill for it.”_

_He blocked her in and she wrapped her arms defensively around her chest as he breathed into her ear. “Don’t you see it? Why do you think he’s so nasty to you? He hates you. He has no love for anything but his dope.”_

_”You’re a liar.”_

_“Am I?” His laugh was rueful as he pinned her with his body. “Your time is wasted on him. Why don’t you let me show you what a real man can be?”_

_She could feel his arousal growing against her as he took in her scent. Everything about her screamed “virgin” to him, and he wanted to take it, if only so Rose couldn’t have it. He definitely wouldn’t touch her if he knew Harris had soiled her._

_Charlotte pushed feebly against his chest, but he wouldn’t budge._

_”C’mon, babygirl... don’t be scared... I won’t hurt you...”_

_Harris grabbed at the fringe of her shirt, and that’s when she screamed. He smacked a hand over her mouth and she squirmed in his grasp, but when she felt him against her leg, she rammed her knee as hard as she could into his crotch. He dropped on his knees to the floor, gripping his aching groin as she fled._

_”Stupid smoothskin hussy!” he snarled after her. “I see you here again and I’ll fuck you to death!”_

Harris’ threat echoed in Charlotte’s mind. She wasn’t sure why he had seemed so adamant to keep her away from Rose at the time; after all, why would he have cared that she was interested? But now it was crystal clear: he didn’t want her taking what he so proudly claimed. He wanted Rose to stay miserable so that he would keep coming back to him.

And the scary thing was, he didn’t seem to be above forcefully removing her to retain his prized possession.

“He uses you...” Charlotte whispered solemnly. Rose said nothing, the silence all that was needed to confirm her suspicions. “Rose... you can’t let him keep doing this to you. He’s killing you.”

Rose snapped and ripped away from her so fast that she barely saw him move.

“You think I don’t know that?” he ranted as he stomped around the room. “You think I don’t understand what he’s done to me? He’s fucked me up beyond repair and I just let it happen!”

Rose roared as his fist crashed through the wall, splintering plaster and wood flying through the air. His knuckles were already divulging with blood as he pounded it against the wall over and over. He was starting to sweat and shake violently.

He was needing his fix again. Charlotte could only watch as he unraveled in front of her, too frightened to intervene. Harris may not have been far off when he claimed Rose would kill for it.

“I can’t take it anymore... _I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!_ ” He whirled around to face Charlotte when he heard her weeping. That was the final straw.

He was gone before Charlotte could bat an eye.

•••

Rose was so out of his mind that when he reached Harris’ room, he couldn’t remember how he’d even got there. He rattled the door handle hard enough that it became completely dislodged and fell inside the room as he pushed it open. When Rose entered, Harris was pulling a knife from underneath his pillow.

Though, when Harris realized it was only him, he slid the knife back into place and turned over. “Rose... don’t tell me you used all of that Jet in just a single night,” he taunted.

And then Rose pounced.

Harris shouted his surprise as Rose held him down, his bloodstained fist connecting several times with the side of Harris’ face. Harris reached once again for his knife, and in one fluid motion, brought it down into Rose’s shoulder. He howled in pain and rolled away, falling bodily to the floor. Harris yanked the knife out of him, blood spraying from the wound, and held it to Rose’s jugular.

“Keep struggling, pup, and my hand is liable to slip,” he growled into Rose’s face. But he was beyond reasoning. He lashed out and struck Harris in the ribs, an audible _crack_ sounding. Harris’ grip loosened on the knife and it easily rendered the soft flesh of Rose’s throat as it fell, leaving a deep, jagged line behind. Rose gasped and his eyes rolled upwards.

The last thing he saw was Harris’ face, eyes blazing down upon him as he clutched his broken rib.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be the conclusion of Rose’s story... so stay tuned and all that nonsense.


	10. Against the Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte makes an offer that Rose can’t refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two posts in a single day! What can I say; I was eager to finish this.

Rose had the sensation of weightlessness as he drifted out to sea. It was strangely calming. The waves cradled him like a child, so gently that he had no fear of being dragged under. The sun had long since set, a blood moon now hung forebodingly in the sky. It hovered so close to the Earth that when he reached for it, he almost felt it was within range of his outstretched fingertips.

“Cristian.” He cracked his eyes open when his mother lifted him out of the water. She hadn’t been here the last time, but he was happy to see her again.

“Mom,” he muttered tiredly. “Can I go with you now? I’m ready.”

“No, my son. You are not.” She coddled him closely, relishing in the contact before turning back to the shoreline. Rose protested weakly, but she shushed him. “Now is not your time.”

“But I don’t want to go back,” he whined. “I want to stay here. With you. I love you so much... I... can’t keep going without you. I’m so exhausted...”

She set him down gently in the sand, like he was made of glass. “Have you already forgotten what I told you?” He looked up at her forlornly, knowing what she would say next. “Not a day has gone by that you have been without me.”

“Mom, I know; I just-“

“Quiet now.” She kissed his cheek before rising again. Rose shook his head defiantly, but her expression allowed no room for argument.

He sighed and drew his finger through the sand. “This feels so real... but am I dreaming? It... doesn’t feel like a dream.”

His mother laughed softly and he looked to her curiously. “Just because it is a dream does not mean it is not real. Dreams are merely bridges to the other side; a place where you can go so we do not have to be apart for so long.”

He frowned at her words. “But you’re so far away.”

“Am I really? I am here now, am I not?”

“I... suppose you are.”

She smiled and touched his shoulder. “Go home now, Cristian. I will be waiting for you here when you return.”

And then his eyes flitted open.

“Rose... Rose! Oh, God; somebody, help me!”

Rose was dimly aware that he was still on the floor in Harris’ room, though it appeared for the time being that he had gone. Charlotte was floating above him, the light bouncing off her face giving her the visage of an angel. She was holding a blood soaked cloth to his neck.

How long had he been out for? It couldn’t have been too much time or surely he’d have bled out by now.

“Charlotte,” he croaked.

She startled at the sound of his voice, nearly dropping the cloth. “Rose! Oh, thank Christ you’re okay; I thought you were going to die.”

Rose scoffed. “I wouldn’t be so lucky.”

“Don’t talk like that!” she snapped.

Rose growled when she pushed the cloth into his wound too hard. “That fucking hurts!”

“I know; I’m trying-“ her mouth clamped shut when she heard voices down the hall and she blanched upon recognizing one of them as Harris’.

Before she could decide what action to take next, he’d stepped through the door with two men in striped suits: one with an assault carbine strapped to his back, and the other with a sawed-off shotgun gripped tightly in his hands.

Harris was in the midst of explaining the situation when his eyes darted over to her. He grinned morosely and clicked his teeth at her.

“Well, now... here’s the bitch that caused all this trouble.” He cornered her, just like he’d done before, only this time his intent was to kill. “Didn’t I tell you what would happen if I saw you again?”

Charlotte squealed when Harris wrapped his hand around her throat and scooted her up the wall. She scrabbled desperately at his arms with her nails, but he stood resolute, completely unfazed by the gashes she was leaving behind. “This is the one that’s been trying to squander free fucks out of me and Rose... and it looks to me like the boy gave ‘em to her.”

While it pained him to ignore her pleas for help, Rose shut his eyes and acted as if he was still unconscious. The two men stepped into the room, each of them glaring coldly at the girl.

“Who knows what else she stole from you? She’s been skulking around this casino for _weeks_ now.” Harris knew that the one thing the Omertas hated most was being swindled out of money, and as if on cue, Nero approached them and nodded affirmation to him.

“Kill her.”

Harris licked his lips and choked off her next scream. He ran his fingers along the collar of her shirt, hooking them into it and tearing the fetid fabric. Then he pried her legs apart with his knee and slotted his hips against hers so that she could feel just how aroused he was.

“You should have heeded me when you had the chance, little girl... now I’m going to fuck you six feet deep.”

Rose’s mind raced, and for the first time in years, he prayed that he’d be able to pull off what he planned next.

At that exact moment, Big Sal stepped forward, presenting his back to him. Charlotte began to snivel as Harris reached down to unbutton his pants. Any hesitation on Rose’s part would most likely end with both of them dead.

He grabbed at the casino boss’ pant leg and yanked him down, slamming his elbow into the back of his knee when it buckled. Rose snatched up his shotgun when he tried to recover and pressed it against the back of his head. He whimpered pathetically as he dwindled into the floor.

Nero broke out into a cold sweat and raised his hands in the universal gesture of peace. He wasn’t about to get shot over some petty dispute between two of his whores.

“Put her down or I’ll kill him.”

Harris sneered at his threat, but refused to let Charlotte go. “Oh, Rose... it’s not like _you_ haven’t done this to her before.” He was trying to provoke him; _daring_ him to take out Nero’s right-hand man and reap the consequences. He didn’t give a fuck if he killed Big Sal; he hated the man. It didn’t really matter if he killed Nero either, so long as he got what he wanted in the end.

“Harris, put her down!” Rose repeated.

“Or what?” he challenged. “Don’t tell me you’re going to give up everything for this tramp. She only cares about your cock.”

Rose growled at him deep from within his chest. Harris watched him from his peripherals, a malignant grin stretching his ruined face. “It’s true... she told me so when she was riding mine.”

By now, Charlotte was too weak to respond, but Rose knew he was full of shit. He’d seen the evidence for himself last night. Not that it made a difference if he killed her. She was turning blue in the face.

Rose swung the shotgun around and aimed it at him before he could react. “I warned you.”

Then he pulled the trigger.

•••

Rose was well and truly fucked now.

He’d taken Charlotte and run from the casino, but only after threatening both of his bosses and shooting his co-worker in the arm, even knowing that they were three men not to be trifled with. If the Omertas didn’t send somebody to kill him, Harris would probably do it himself.

But realistically, they probably didn’t need to bother. He was out of a job and a home now, so if the Mojave didn’t kill him first, thirst or starvation would get him.

At the very least, he’d spared Charlotte. If there was one good thing he could do with his worthless existence, he could ensure she was delivered safely back to her family before venturing out on his own.

Then maybe, just maybe, he could be with _his_ family again.

“... Rose?” Charlotte was stirring in his arms. He’d refused to look at her until now, feeling bile rising in his throat at her shredded clothing and the marks Harris had left on her neck. And below those... the marks he’d left with _his_ own hands.

He was just as bad as that demented old ghoul.

“Rose... what happened? Where are we?” She lifted her head to survey the area and did a double take when she saw they were outside. Under any other circumstance, Rose would have laughed, but he couldn’t find humor in anything now that he’d been sentenced to death.

“Charlotte.” She frowned at the utter defeat in his tone. “Lead me to your home. I’m going to take you there and go somewhere else.”

“What? Rose, no-“ he cut her off with a ghastly warning growl.

“Don’t argue with me. I’m no good for you; just a junkie that almost killed you. More than once.”

“Rose-“

“ _No_.” He stopped in his tracks for a moment as a tear dripped down his face, falling onto hers. “Please... don’t beg me... I can’t...”

He fell to the ground, dropping her in the dirt as he collapsed. The impact knocked the wind from her lungs, but the urgency of the situation called her to action. Had he reopened the cut and started bleeding again? Had one of the men from the casino injured him further? Was it some side effect of being without his drug for too long?

She crawled over to him and realized it was none of that. He was sobbing.

... And praying.

“Please, God, just keep her safe and take me. I can’t go on anymore. I know that I have failed You, but please don’t punish her for that. She doesn’t deserve it.”

When she brushed his shoulder, he flinched. Gazing up at her, the sun shined down at just the right angle to place a halo of light around her head, but when he blinked, it was gone.

“Rose... you don’t have to be alone anymore. Come with me.”

“Didn’t I tell you-“

She gripped him tightly and pulled him against her. “Stop your self loathing for one God damn minute and just _listen_.” She touched their foreheads together and locked eyes with him. “I was going to tell you this sooner, but I never got the chance. My family relocated the farm further out East. The land is free now that the Legion is gone.”

“So I can take you there and you’ll be safe.”

Charlotte pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Yes, you can take me there, but I want you to stay with me. When I said I loved you, that wasn’t a joke. I truly, sincerely love you, and I won’t let you go out on your own just to die. You deserve better than that. You deserve to be happy.”

Rose’s jaw opened uselessly as his mouth refused to produce words. “Please... just come with me. I can’t see my life without you.”

Charlotte hugged him and held him closely against her, as if the wind would blow him away if she let go. Rose only sat in stunned silence, unable to lift his arms until she grabbed them and placed them around her back. Then, she regretted it somewhat as he threatened to squeeze the life from her for the third time in a 24-hour span.

He bawled into her chest, clinging to her for purchase. His sorrow gave way to a profound joy as he truly understood what she was offering him: a chance to start over and right his wrongs; to savor the life he’d been given.

How could he say “no” to that?

“Okay.” Charlotte smiled, holding his head in her hands and giving him a long, deep kiss. Rose’s heart fluttered at her touch. “But... on one condition.”

Charlotte regarded him seriously. “Yes?”

“Call me ‘Cristian.’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! There it is, my lovely readers; another fic completed! 🥀 
> 
> “It’ll just be a short ficlet,” I said... “Five chapters at most,” I said...
> 
> ... I can’t write anything short, can I?
> 
> Side note: I know my works usually revolve a lot around dreams (this one especially), but I do hold the belief that dreams are indeed a bridge of some kind. A bridge to what, you might ask? Well... I don’t rightfully know. I suspect to your subconscious (or even conscious) desires and not literally the world of the dead, which brings into question whether Rose’s mother was telling the truth, doesn’t it?
> 
> Of course, I have no supporting evidence for this claim - it really comes down to just being a hunch based on my own experiences. But... it makes for interesting reading material! ... I think.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed! For my next project, I’d like to explore the world of Fallout 4 somehow... but I want to do it in a way that features an OC and not the Sole Survivor. I feel like those are beyond oversaturated at this point (hence, why my recent works have an OC as the main character and _not_ the Lone Wanderer/Courier).
> 
> In the meantime, however... I feel Charon has had a pretty significant lack of development since Tourniquet’s story ended. Perhaps there is also a tale waiting to be told on that front.
> 
> Thoughts and opinions are always appreciated. This particular fic and its characters were formed on the basis of a wayward suggestion, so it goes a long way (at least in my mind)!
> 
> Stay safe and remember to wash your hands!


	11. Reference/Character Index

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extra information regarding my OCs and headcanon for the pre-existing “main” characters featured in my stories.
> 
> Because sometimes, the notes at the end of each chapter just aren’t enough...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** May contain spoilers.
> 
> Index may be changed as updates occur.
> 
> Index moved from its original location to avoid potential spoilers. Last updated 2/23/21.

**Tourniquet:** The main protagonist of the story. Tourniquet was born in 2257 (aged 20, 24) to a deceased father and neglectful mother. A week before the events of the _The Second Circle_ , Tourniquet departed from her mother’s company and wandered DC, managing to scavenge the many abandoned storefronts. Eventually she came to the Museum of History and met Willow, who informed her of the colony of ghouls living in the museum’s Underworld exhibit and warned her of venturing any further for fear that she would be killed by super mutants. Not used to gestures of kindness, Tourniquet felt intrigued and entered Underworld despite the general consensus that ghouls were lesser and to be avoided.

Winthrop further solidified Tourniquet’s positive opinion of Underworld and ghouls in general when he greeted her with the same caring as Willow and gave her a tour of the concourse. Afterwards she meets Ahzrukhal, and following a night of passion, decides to trust him due to her naive nature as well as her desperation for love and affection. She is highly agreeable and revels in praise as it helps her find validation in herself. Her willingness and desire to please make her easily manipulated and the perfect target for a morally corrupt opportunist like Ahzrukhal.

Origin of the name: Tourniquet is (as you may have guessed already) a reference to Evanescence’s song titled the same. However, there is more to this reference than just song alone.

By definition, a tourniquet is: _a device for stopping the flow of blood through an artery, typically by compressing a limb with a cord or tight bandage_.

So: why name a character after such a device? It is purely metaphor; Tourniquet is an emotionally stifled young woman whom seeks something or someone to help “fix” her. In Amy Lee’s own words...

_My wounds cry for the grave,  
My soul cries for deliverance.  
Will I be denied?  
Christ! Tourniquet!  
My suicide..._

(These are the literal lines I chose to base Tourniquet’s name from.)

 **Dr. Avery Ward:** A secondary protagonist of _The Second Circle_ who plays the role of Lone Wanderer. Avery follows the typical storyline of _Fallout 3_ while Tourniquet lives in the Ninth Circle. He is good-natured and helpful (designated Very Good karma), and will do anything to assist those in need. He studied medicine under his father while growing up in Vault 101 and knows how to treat life-threatening wounds as well as deal with near-fatal situations in kind. His companions are Fawkes, Dogmeat, and later Charon.

At the time of _What Happens In Vegas Is Probably Sexy_ , Avery is employed as a full-time doctor in Rivet City, also working part-time as an engineer on Project Purity.

 **Luciano (?):** A secondary protagonist of _What Happens In Vegas Is Probably Sexy_ who plays the role of the Courier (aged 31). Luciano is a cold, mercenary type who seeks all types of odd jobs and will do anything for money, regardless of the moral ramifications (designated Neutral karma). He is hell-bent on revenge against those who who have wronged him in the past and dislikes the military factions of the Mojave as he sees them as oppressive. He is fighting for a free, independent Vegas. His companion is Raul.

**Ahzrukhal:** A prewar ghoul and operator of the Ninth Circle. Born in the year 2005, Ahzrukhal is 272 years old, making him one of the oldest ghouls in Underworld. His portrayal is typical of his character in _Fallout 3._

 **Charon:** The ghoul bouncer of the Ninth Circle and unspoken slave to Ahzrukhal. Charon was born in the year 2047 (aged 230, 234) and entered the military at age 18. He volunteered for a secret military research project that trained him to be the equivalent of a super soldier, requiring minimal maintenance while maximizing combat effectiveness. He was given the title Charon whilst in the military and has long forgotten his real name.

However, the controversial and hidden aspect of the project included brainwashing the individual to obey every direct order related to combat to the letter in the form of a written contract. Whomsoever held the contract was entitled to their employee’s complete compliance so long as they did not break the contract’s single rule: to not participate in violence towards said employee. Ahzrukhal has figured out a way to exploit Charon’s conditioning and assert total control over his entire being, well beyond just combat, and closely guards his contract as Charon is his only form of protection from those he has wronged. How Ahzrukhal came to possess Charon’s contract is unknown.

Fun fact: _Gamepedia_ describes Charon as standing a terrifying 6’6” tall (that’s 1.98m for non-Americans).

 _Source_ : https://fallout.gamepedia.com/Charon_(Fallout_3)

 **Gob (Gobtholemu):** A ghoul and former slave of Irish immigrant Colin Moriarty, whom was killed by the Lone Wanderer in 2277. Gob is the operator and proprietor of Gob’s Saloon in Megaton. Born in 2162 (aged 115, 119), Gob was ghoulified in his late teen years, though unfortunately (or fortunately), the other members of his biological family did not share his fate and died as humans long ago. He lived in Underworld for many years with his surrogate mother Carol, though her partner Greta often got in the way of their relationship and left him emotionally isolated.

Even after his liberation from slavery, Gob has been faced with intense loneliness and longs for a lover; thus, when Tourniquet shows him positive attention, he quickly becomes enamored with her, going so far as to pursue her to New Vegas after she departs Underworld.

Fun fact: Gob’s name may not in fact be Gob, but rather something entirely different. In one of Moriarty’s random NPC to NPC dialogues, he will state:

“ _Shut yer gob, Gob! Ain’t that why I named you that to begin with, ‘cause you talk too Goddamn much_.”

However, when you interact with Carol and refer to Gob with this namesake, she is familiar with whom you are talking about.

So, which is it: did Moriarty give him this title, or was he already called “Gob”? The answer, unfortunately, doesn’t exist; it is one of _Fallout 3’s_ many inconsistencies. I personally tend to believe that it _was_ Moriarty who gave him this name and that it stuck with him.

 _Source_ :  https://fallout.fandom.com/wiki/Gob

**Cristian “Rose” Nawrocki:** A young ghoul working as a stripper and escort at Gomorrah. Rose was born in 2254 (aged 27) and endured ghoulification at a young age as a result of severe radiation exposure. He found his job in Vegas at age 16 and has been working there ever since. Like most prostitutes, he is dissatisfied with his job, though he performs enthusiastically for better pay to fuel his drug habit.

Origin of the name: Cristian’s first name is a rather obvious allusion to his family’s affiliation with Christianity. The surname “Nawrocki” is of Polish decent, meaning to “turn, revert, convert.” Rose’s real name quite literally means “revert to Christian(ity),” a solemn nod to the returning of his roots. Religion is a rarity in the Wasteland, but much like the Lone Wanderer’s mother and father, Rose’s parents were avid practitioners of their faith. This trait seems to have been passed down to Rose himself.

 **Ryker Davidson:** Referred to typically by his last name, Davidson is a prewar German ghoul who travelled to America before the Great War, leaving behind his family in Berlin. Born in 2055, Davidson is 226 years old. Davidson is usually calm and quiet, though he suffers from a strong addiction to Jet. He is content in his life as a Gomorrah prostitute as the Omertas and his friend Harris supply enough chems to keep him satisfied.

Origin of the name: Considering Davidson’s Germanic heritage, “Ryker” is a common enough name. Meaning “brave power,” it is an ode to his mental and physical characteristics. He prefers the usage of his surname to maintain a level of privacy between himself and his clients, a convention of the prewar era no doubt.

 **Liam Harris:** Like Davidson, Harris prefers to be called by his last name. Born in 2039 (aged 242), Harris is the oldest ghoul employed at Gomorrah. Unlike most of the Omertas’ employees, he is not addicted to chems, though he _is_ addicted to sex. He greatly enjoys his work and often trades his co-workers for more sex in exchange for drugs. Though Harris is not German, Davidson has taught him the language in their free time and he frequently uses it to seduce those he wishes to sleep with.

Origin of the name: The name “Liam” has many different meanings; in this circumstance, “desire” is most appropriate. Harris uses his surname first for the same reason as Davidson.

Fun fact: Both Davidson and Harris (an iteration of Harrison) are patronymic surnames, each meaning “son of David/Harry” respectively.

**Jacob “Beast” Flynn:** Beast was born in 2194 (aged 87) into a gang of Raiders from the Midwest. He travelled with them for many years until he eventually ghoulified in his late 50s. After his ghoulification, some members of his gang conspired against him and sold him to slavers, where he endured harsh conditions and even harsher beatings.

Beast escaped enslavement after only two years and searched the Wasteland for nearly a decade for his old gang. When he found them, they were in Vegas. Not knowing exactly who sold him out and being unable to trust their word, he chose to slaughter all of them, including his own brother. Beast decided to settle in Vegas after being offered employment by the Omertas. He has been a prostitute ever since, but works as a hired gun in his free time. He does his best not to inform the Omertas of his side jobs for fear of being fired. 

Origin of the name: Jacob, in biblical context, means “righteous deceiver.” Beast deceived his brother and his surrogate family by killing them, but only after they first deceived _him_ by selling him to slavers; therefore, his actions can be seen as “righteous.”

His stage name, “Beast,” is a direct reference to Avenged Sevenfold’s _The Beast and the Harlot_ (see below) and also his appearance.

**Laurie “Harlot” Oliveira:** Harlot is a young ghoul prostitute employed by the Omertas. She was born in 2261 (aged 20) and is newly ghoulified. She is the pampered daughter of two wealthy, retired merchants living on the border of Nevada, whom she visits regularly. Most of her family also ghoulified and are still alive. They approve of her lifestyle, all except her father, who has always been overprotective of the women in his family. 

Origin of the name: Harlot is of Latin descent, hence her namesake. “Laurie” is an almost direct citation of laurel trees, which in many different cultures is symbolic of honor and victory. Her family is quite proud, as is she, herself.

Harlot’s stage name is the other half of the aforementioned song title, its connotation hardly requiring explanation. Beast and Harlot are fond of each other in an almost familial way and are rarely seen apart, thus their identities are also intertwined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate good symbology, which is why I attempted to apply it to my stories. It adds an extra layer of atmosphere to the whole ordeal (at least, in my humble opinion).


End file.
